


Glass of Whiskey, Glass of Wine

by piningmck



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Assault, Hurt No Comfort, PTSD flashback, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The violence isn't that graphic but im categorizing it as that for precaution, Violence, cucan mention as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piningmck/pseuds/piningmck
Summary: Canada doesn't like alcohol, due to past experiences.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Glass of Whiskey, Glass of Wine

It was a beautiful evening to be a little bit annoyed with America, Canada thought to himself. After all, that brother of his came to visit solely so Canada could legally buy him alcohol. Some century ago, one of America’s bosses decided he could only drink if his physical age lined up with the legal age of drinking for humans, and ever since that number went up to 21, America was legally not allowed to drink in his own home. So, with his pleading eyes, he mooched off the laws of his worldly neighbours, but no one more than his dear, patient brother. 

“Aw yeah! Booze! Canada, my beautiful broski, you are the best!” America fumbled out the pack of beer he chose out for himself, something Canada didn’t bother to read too much into. HE cracked it open, still cold.

“Yeah, yeah, this is the, what, 50th time I told you to stop making me buy you booze?” Canada retorted, pulling out his own brand. It was a cooler, and America snorted when he noticed.

“Dude, seriously? Have you  _ ever _ drank anything other than light crap like that?” Canada didn’t comment with anything other than a “hmph”, as he poured the drink into a glass, got out some ice cubes, and left the empty bottle in the sink, to which his brother started stifling laughter. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am, one-hundred percent. The bottle’s useless if I can’t keep the drink cold. And regular stuff smells bad.”

“You’re joking! Cuba’s a hard whiskey and rum kind of guy, isn’t he? How can you stand to be  _ near _ him all the time?”

“We don’t go for drinks together,” Canada replied, matter of factly, and a little bit smug. “He respects my boundaries,” Canada eyed America’s drink. If America noticed the comment was towards him, he didn’t care, and nearly downed the first bottle. It made Canada grimace, something America also didn’t seem to notice. “Speaking of him, he’s coming over later, and I’ve chosen not to mention your impromptu visit so he doesn’t come over sooner,” he smiled slyly.

“Oh, that’s cold,” America joked. “Don’t worry, if your boyfriend wants to come in for a smooch sesh, I’ll gladly leave- owwww!” He yelped as Canada lightly punched him in the arm. 

“Watch your mouth,” Canada blushed. “What do you want to watch?”

“Aww, what, I can’t have a conversation with my dear baby brother?” America teased.

“ _ Older _ brother, remember?”

“Pff, that’s _ England’s _ rule. He just didn’t remember who was older.” America started to list off things on his fingers. “I aged faster, I gained independence first, and I became a world superpower- don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m right!” 

“Yeah yeah, you’re right. Sure,” Canada teased. He didn’t feel like arguing about anything. So, they sat down and for the better part of an hour, kept a nice, fun conversation going. Canada was still uneasy about the alcohol, and the rate America was downing his bottles like they were sport drinks after a workout, but his conscience was mostly calmed due to the fact America was neither a lightweight or a  _ reactive _ drunk. Still, the bottle tended to make Canada sweat. 

After a hearty laugh from one of America’s stories, he sighed. “We don’t ever sit down and laugh together anymore, man. I miss that.”

“Yeah,” Canada smiled. “But, it is what it is. We have responsibilities. We can’t play like kids anymore.”

America chuckled, reminiscing. “Yeah, I remember. You couldn’t catch up, and I ended up being busy faster than you. I was shocked when you finally had your first growth spurt.” The laughs started revealing an… Awkward silence. Neither of them really knew how to carry a conversation when it came to the past, because they never really liked to talk about it. It’s hard to have a brotherly relationship when you’ve fought  _ two _ wars against each other, after all. And America tended to get… Salty when talking about it. Canada could sense that salt now. He braced himself silently for whatever America was about to mouth off. “It could have been so good between us back then.”

“Yeah… But it wasn’t.”

“I know it’s pointless to complain about the past, but think about it. If you had just convinced your boss to rally against England’s troops, we could have become independent together! An unprecedented two-colony revolution against the most powerful empire in the world!” He said those words with so much conviction. So much animosity. Canada gripped his cup a little tighter.

“America-”

“But… You didn’t. You left  _ me _ for  _ him _ . We suffered the same, didn’t we? We always talked about how… Oppressive he was-”

“ _ You _ , did.  _ You _ talked about him like that. You never let  _ me _ get in a word, and when I could, I was terrified of disagreeing with you!” Canada held his cup a little tighter. He didn’t even think about putting it down. He was too focused on America. The way he sounded, how he was waving his bottle around. It made Canada’s chest tighten.

America looked at him, bewildered. “Are you serious? Huh. All this time, I thought you were just too much of a coward to revolt, didn’t think you  _ actually _ liked him.”

“That is  _ not _ what I said. He was neglectful to  _ both _ of us, you were just his  _ favourite _ . He didn’t  _ want _ to let  _ you _ go.” 

“So now I’m  _ ungrateful _ ?”

“That’s not-”

“No, I get it.  _ Sorry _ , second-best. But if you were so tired of not getting noticed by your dear old big brother, maybe  _ you _ should have revolted! I mean, how could you  _ leave _ me like that? We were  _ supposed _ to be in it  _ together _ !” 

Two pieces of glass broke simultaneously.

…

…

…

  1. The war was over already, but the damage had been done to England’s psyche. Nowadays, he locked himself in his room. It was time again to check up on him, so Canada put on a brave face, and creeped open the door.



“England? I-it’s me. It’s Canada-”

“Get out.” England said, so quietly. Canada could hardly hear him over the stench of alcohol the room wafted. “Please.” He sounded so broken. So weak, despite no physical ailments. 

“You should take a bath. Or drink water,” Canada continued softly. 

“What did I do  _ wrong _ ?” He croaked. He was obviously crying. Obviously drunk. “What more should I have done?” Canada winced. He stepped closer to his caretaker, with open arms. He was only trying to help. 

“I think you’ve been sitting at the desk for too long, why don’t we get you to be-” Just as Canada was about to put a helping hand on England’s shoulder, England’s own and lurched out to grab his wrist. Tightly. England didn’t look at him, but Canada could tell he had a crazed look in his eye. “England, let go of me.”

“I told you to get out. Don’t make me say it again.” 

“I’m trying to help you. Your  _ king _ expects your service. He doesn’t understand time like us, he’s getting impatient,” Canada struggled to get out of England’s tight grip. “Let me go, please.”

England looked at Canada, and gasped. Canada knew what this meant, and struggled harder. Not again. Please, not again. He could almost see smoke seethe out of England’s mouth as he grinded his teeth in drunken anger. 

  
  


“ _ You _ .  _ What are you doing here _ ?” He said, slowly. Angrily. Dangerously

“England, you’re drunk. You’re seeing things,” Canada said, panicked now. “I’m not him! Let me go!” England stood up. Shorter than Canada, but with such an overpowering aura, Canada could only whimper. “ _ Please. _ ” 

Canada was shoved onto the floor in record time. England smashed the bottle of booze in his hand, gripping the sharp half remaining by the nose of it. And no sooner was he keeping Canada pinned to the ground with his own weight, his arm holding the sharp glass weapon above his head. Yes, this has happened before. Canada tried to fight before. But he was a colony, and England was an empire. His physical strength was outmatched every time. He could never get away. 

He could only turn his head, softly sobbing, waiting for the inevitable impact. 

Instead, he felt hot tears drip onto his face. He opened his eyes to look, and saw England’s face of horror. He came back to consciousness, for the first time, and looked at his own hand, horrified as he realized what he was about to do. He dropped the bottle. He didn’t get off of Canada, he only bent down, his forehead resting on Canada’s chest, and sobbed, gripping Canada’s shirt.

“I’m sorry. Oh, _God_ , I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” he sobbed. 

…

…

…

The shards of a broken glass bottle and a broken glass cup fell to the floor as the remaining of their contents seeped into the wood and into the cushions of the couch. Canada and America had both been standing for a while, but neither remembered exactly when Canada had America’s shirt collar in his hands. He wasn’t strong enough to lift America off the floor, but there was an unconscious effort that only increased as Canada came to. 

“Don’t… Don’t you  _ dare _ .” Canada said. Softly. Angrily. He couldn’t keep the tears from streaming down his face, but they didn’t disrupt the clarity of his voice. “I  _ never _ complained. I  _ never _ acted out. I tried so hard to be good. To be helpful.” He took a breath, he was starting to break down. His hands were shaking. America just stood there, not bothering to get out of Canada’s grip. “You left,” he continued. “I had to pick up the pieces,” he croaked. “I did his duties, I was his messenger to the king, I was there to bathe him, clothe him, put him to sleep when he could hardly function because  _ you, left _ . I was there to deal with him when he was drunk and sad and  _ angry _ . I couldn’t  _ run away _ , not like you. If I ran, what would he do to the poor humans who would have to check up on him? I couldn’t think of that, so I was there to pick up his pieces. And you know what? It was  _ hell _ ,” he sobbed through gritted teeth. “Genuine, Satan-approved Hell, with a capital H.”

“Canada,”

“You don’t  _ know _ what he was  _ like _ . You didn’t have to deal with the  _ worst _ of him. I  _ did _ . He was an angry drunk. And I was the brother who was always easily mistaken for you. I was the  _ only _ one who could deal with him. I had to learn to stop struggling. It  _ never _ helped. And sure, he was always sorry. But did he stop drinking?” Canada let out a bewildered huff. “Nope! He didn’t do  _ shit _ . Sometimes, I  _ swear _ I can still feel the glass in my face, in my  _ chest _ , i-in my  _ wrists _ …” His hands shook violently now. His whole body was shaking. His eyes were on the floor as tears dripped down and mixed into the puddles of alcohol. He didn’t want America to see his face. He tightened his grip, voice almost raw now. “Don’t you  _ dare _ say that I betrayed you. Don’t you  _ dare _ .  _ You _ abandoned  _ me _ ,” he sobbed. 

It wasn’t a minute before he let America go. He took a few deep breaths. Kumajiro entered the room, and growled at America once he got a grasp of the situation. “Easy,” Canada sniffled, wiping his tears. The bear back down, going to rest in the corner, keeping his eye on everything. America was silent. Shocked. Speechless. What a first. “So, to answer the obvious question, that’s why I don’t like alcohol. Now please, go home.”

“I…. Wait- no, hang on,” America stuttered. “Let me clean this up, at least-”

“ _ Please _ . Go.” America wanted to protest, but didn’t. He silently gathered his things. 

Just as he opened the door to his home, he turned back. “I’m sorry,” he said, softly. Sincerely. That must have been the first time Canada had heard an apology from him. As America closed the door, Canada sat back down on the couch, and sobbed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
